Emotions
by DrowningFromTheInside
Summary: Each of the Curtis' brothers emotions at their parents funeral. RIP Grampa
1. Darry

**I do not own The Outsiders.**

**Darry's Pov.****  
**  
I watched as they pulled a casket from the herse, then the other. The  
mass in my chest enlarged and pressed against my beating heart.

_They're in them, mom and dad are in the coffins._

I watched as the pallbarers hoisted each one on their shoulders and  
began to slowly decent to their grave, each wearing a grim expression.

I followed them, taking slow large steps, as they walked to the deep  
pits. The thumping in my ears got louder and quicker.

Traveling between the parted sea of people every single one of their  
faces were looking at me. I tried to keep my eyes forwards but found  
myself looking at the throng my heart picking up pace at each reconizable  
figure.

I met a few of their eyes, the women wiping their tear stained cheeks  
with napkins, the men giving them reassuring pats and squeezes.

I gritted my teeth and kept moving forwards. Beside me I was aware of  
my brothers bawling, stumbling over their own feet and gripping onto  
eachother.

Placing hand on each of their backs I pushed them towards the priest.  
Through their thick jackets I could feel their sharp edged shoulders,  
moving muscles, but most importantly the faint beating of their  
hearts. They were alive. I was alive. _We _were still alive.

I took my place around the coffins as the sermon began. I heard each  
word crisp and clear, attempted to make sense of each one and remember  
every sentence.

I didn't remember the sentences, not even the words. They will stay with me forever though.

I watched dazed as the priest continued on talking then took a step  
back. I then realized the name he had said belonged to me.

Releasing my arm from around Ponyboy's shoulders I walked around their  
caskets; mom and dads caskets.

I eyed them while I passed. With a sick realization I realized that  
their bodies were in them. The lump in my chest got bigger; pushed  
against my stomach so it's contents were churned about.

As I turned around and faced the group I took a deep breath, forcing  
the lump downwards. My eyes passed over each face; more than half of  
them foreign to me. I took a step forwards and spoke.

"As all of you probably know, Mary and Darrell Curtis were my  
parents," my voice seemed too loud, too deep, too calm to be my own.

"When I think of dad, the one word that comes to mind is  
gentleman." My eyes landed on Two-Bit, more serious then I've ever  
seen. It just added more reasons to know this wasn't real.

"He was wild and free, he was always in good spirits, he joked, he  
laughed, he loved. He was the best man he could be." As I said this my  
eyes found Ponys body, fragile and shaking as sobs attacked him. I  
wished I could be like him, to be able to cry and let myself drain the  
storm out, but I wasn't and I couldn't.

"Mom was the perfect lady. She was caring, she was gentle, she could  
even keep dad in line." As I said this a few laughs broke out, even  
more smiles. I saw Johnny smiling slightly as I said the next part.  
"She would take in everything, from a stray dog or cat to a grown man  
to care for them and feed them. If she could she'd have kept all of  
them to, but she would always send then back where they belong, just a  
whole lot fuller and happier, maybe even more hopeful."

"The most reconizable thing about them really was the love between  
them. They'd always be looking at eachother, to them nothing else was  
more beautiful then eachother." I watched as Soda look up from the  
ground for the first time and glance around. His red eyes met my own  
for just a second, but it helped me go on. There was nothing more I  
wanted to do right then more then be with my brothers.

"They could find the best in the worse people and bring it out in  
them." I looked at Dally, his entire body unmoving like he was made  
out of stone, his eyes staring at the coffins like they were armed  
grenades. I remembered how many times he would follow mom around the house  
and try to get her approval back after getting put in the cooler or  
suspended from school. Her disappointment at him seemed to hurt him  
more than a hundred beatings could.

"Their love for me and my brothers was probably the greatest kind of  
love I'll ever know," I had to shut my eyes to stop the tears. "But  
even with all that love they still had enough to spare for just about  
everyone and everything else." I looked to the ground as I realized  
that the gang entirety was looking at me.

"They were the best parents I could ever ask for, an-and..." I swore  
as my voice cracked,"I am very thankful for everyone here coming to  
reconize them."

I found my arms parked securly around my brothers in a matter of  
seconds as I gripped onto them for dear life. The swell inside of me  
thudded and pounded as it pushed to escape.

Slowly they lowered the coffins into the ground and my siblings broke  
down into tears again. As the wood neared the bottom I felt my heart  
try to rip itself apart from me.

_This is going to be the final good-bye_ I came to the sick realization  
to. If it wasn't for the two figures holding me up I would've jumped  
into the holes after them.

Pony buried his head into my chest as dirt began to get piled onto  
them, Soda just looked at it in disbelief.

I pulled them even closer to me and hid any start tears in their hair.  
We stayed like that for a while, them holding me up just as much as I  
was them.

I felt the mass inside me get smaller and tuck itself away neatly  
between my lungs in a just as dangerous but more compact lump.

I probably couldn't have even released it if I tried anymore.

**. . .**

Soda next, then Pony.  
Please review. 


	2. Sodapop

****

**I do not own The Outsiders.**

. . .

**Sodapop's Pov.**

I hate funerals.

I hated two-timing broads, I hated prejudice cops, I hated lying  
scums, I hated loud mouthed socs, I hated pitiful teachers, I hated  
poor losers and fixed races and cheaters but I'd take all of them  
without a second thought if I could leave this funeral.

When I saw the hearse open I lost it; every single promise to myself  
broken as my sorrow dripped out of my body in the form of salty water.

It felt like someone was continually knocking the wind out of me as I  
gasped for air between sobs and stumbled beside Pony through the crowd  
of people.

I heard sniffling and knew that Pony was crying, wrapping a arm around  
him though I felt him pull me closer as if comforting me. I pulled him  
into me and we walked down the path together clinging to eachother for  
dear life.

I felt a hand guide me gently towards the graves that felt impossibly  
gentle for it's size which I believed only could have belonged to my father.

I looked back timidly, scared of whatd I would see, or not see. My  
eyes only saw hardened Darry. I quickly looked forwards again and let  
the tears slide down my face.

As the ceremony began I heard the priest talk and I bit my lip. I had  
to pay attention, I had already failed my first promise of not crying.

My hands balled up into shaking fists as I heard the priest say that a  
funeral wasn't a time to mourn but to celebrate the fact they were  
given this time on earth.

_If it is such a celebration then why is everyone crying?_

I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. I just wanted to leave.

My stomach turned and I felt hot tears roll out of my eyes in an  
endless stream. I tried to shut my eyes but they still escaped, I  
tried blinking constantly, I tried not breathing but nothing seemed to  
work. It was impossible to hold them back.

Finally I began to wipe my eyes frantically ridding them of all  
liquids, only for a second befoe they filled up again. I finally gave up  
and grabbed onto Pony, hanging my head and blocking out any words  
spoken.

I released my death grip on Ponys wrist as I felt myself get nudged. I  
looked down to see blood where my fingers broke skin on his arm.

I gave him a apoligetic look and moved my glance up to the front where  
Darry was speaking to avoid Steve's and Pony's concerned looks. _Care  
about yourselves, you have just as many tears than I have._

I had to fight hard to keep my eyes on Darry and not to the ground. My  
eyes hurt too much to tell if tears were still crying from all the rubbing  
before.

I tried to listen to what he was saying, and I did, but nothing made  
sense. I couldn't understand what any of the words meant when they were  
placed together. I felt like I was drunk, the simplest things seemed even  
difficult.

Once he was done Darry walked back to us and pushed apart me and Pony  
to make room for himself between us.

As the coffins got lowered side by side into the black pits my heart  
sank with them.

This was it, they aren't coming back.

My vision got blurry as I watched, my knees began to buckle and I  
wondered if this was what happens before someone passes out. Before I  
could figure it out for myself though I felt Darrys strong arm that was wrapped  
around my shoulder pull me into his chest holding me upright and  
dragging me out of my dreamland.

I buried my head as far into Darry as possible like moms grave was in  
the ground. His rough jacket reddened my skin and scratched me but  
there was still no place I'd rather be.

As I eventually left his grip we all started walking away from the graves and towards  
the parking lot. It took all the strength I had left to not turn back.

I hate funerals.

****

**. . .**

Pony is next.

R.I.P. grampa 3


	3. Ponyboy

**I do not own The Outsiders.**

**Ponyboy's Pov.**

In movies funerals are on dark, wet, rainy days that match the  
characters' moods perfectly.

Maybe this was a movie, that is why everyone is looking at me like I'm  
a orphan, like my parents died, because they didn't.

Mom is at home making sandwiches she can bring out for me and the guys  
to eat and dad is working in his office, trying sneek cookies from the kitchen  
when moms back's turned.

That is why the sky is in fact dark, not wet and rainy, but dark.  
Moody clouds covering the sky, blocking out the suns rays. Because  
only in movies would the weather match the atmosphere.

In movies the funerals are packed with people, most of them unknown to  
the viewer because they are truly meaningless and have no known  
connection to the dead, because in real life not all funerals are  
packed and all the guests knew the deceased.

As I looked around I reconized only few faces compared to the amount I  
saw, proving that this was not real life, just a dream, a book, a  
movie. Fiction. Something that would end and not matter, have no effect  
on reality.

As I heard the priest speak it was as if he was singing, every word  
making perfect sense, every sentence fitting perfectly into what  
needed to be said to send me and everyone else into another fit of crying.

As Darry walked to the front and spoke, his words so true and perfect,  
his speech impecable and not a single tear running down his face.

It had to be fiction, because in real life people made mistakes.  
Priests didn't know the exactly right words to say and newly orphaned kids  
couldn't make beautiful speeches without so much as one tear falling  
down his face. In real life you couldn't hold back tears so well or know the  
perfect time to comfort your brother, but Darry did.

As the coffins got lowered into the graves never to see daylight again  
I broke down into sobs and pressed my head into Darrys chest, just the  
right amount of drama to keep the audience captivated.

If this were a movie I'd heal from the loss of my parents quickly,  
have a few hardships but in the end it would get better. There would  
be a happily ever after.

But this wasn't a movie. My parents were dead. I was an orphan. The  
tears falling down my face were of sorrow, the words spoke from  
Darrys mouth was just from heart. The weather wasn't chosen, it was  
sporatic and unchangable. I wouldn't heal in a few scenes, I may never  
heal. Maybe Darry wouldn't either, or Sodapop or Steve or Dallas or  
Johnny or Two-Bit or anyone at their funeral.

Because this isn't a movie and happily ever afters don't happen.

**. . .**

Thanks if you read, it was just a kind of random thing. I had to go  
to my Gramps funeral today, and it was surreal. R.I.P. Gramps, wrote  
a story for you


End file.
